A flower expected everywhere —

An altered look about the hills —
A Tyrian light the village fills —

Gorgeous Somethings

Preserve the backs of old letters to write upon.
—The American Frugal Housewife

We don’t need to see anything out of the ordinary. We already see so much.
—Robert Walser (from A Little Ramble)

Over the past few months, I’ve stored up several “gorgeous somethings” with the thought of embarking on a larger project. To choose among the possibilities has so far proved elusive. Like a skipping pebble, I’ve failed to land.

Winter Dreams

It sifts from Leaden Sieves –
It powders all the Wood –
It fills with Alabaster Wool
The Wrinkles of the Road –

Simple Gifts

This is the meal equally set, this the meat for natural hunger,
It is for the wicked just the same as the righteous, I make appointments with all,
I will not have a single person slighted or left away,

—Walt Whitman, Song of Myself, Part 19 (excerpt)

If there’s a holiday in the U.S. more Whitmanian in spirit than Thanksgiving, I don’t know of it. It’s the one time each year when, among other things, City friends, and others even further flung, hop planes and trains and get in cars to converge at our house for a grand feast.